Quotes About Faith

For me, failure has been a strict teacher of God's mercies, a curriculum I wouldn't volunteer for, yet a class I can't afford to miss.

I would never have gone anywhere if it hadn't been for Mother's faith and support.

And as far as false hope, there is no such thing. There is only hope or the absence of hope-nothing else.

What will happen to us?" I asked. "There will always be us," he answered.

Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine. - Gloria

I believe in movement. I believe in that lighthearted balloon, the world. I believe in midnight and the hour of noon. But what else do I believe in? Sometimes everything. Sometimes nothing. It fluctuates like light flitting over a pond.

Angel looks down at him and says, "Oh, pretty boy, Can't you show me nothing but surrender?

In my way of thinking, anything is possible. Life is at the bottom of things and belief at the top, while the creative impulse, dwelling in the center, informs all.

I understood that what matters is the work: the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, the weave of color and graphite scrawled upon the sheet that magnifies His motion. To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution. From this state of mind comes a light, life-changed.

This is what I know - Sam is dead. My brother is dead. My mother is dead. My father is dead. My husband is dead. My cat is dead. My dog, who was dead in 1957, is still dead. Yet still I keep thinking that something wonderful is about to happen. Maybe tomorrow.

Your work, coming from a fluid source, can be traced to the naked song of your youth. You spoke then of holding hands with God. Remember, through everything, you have always held that hand, grip it hard, Robert, and don't let go. (letter to Robert Mapplethorpe, 1970)

For a brief moment I felt as if I might die; and just as quickly I knew everything would be all right.

Perhaps priest and magician were once one, but the priest, learning humility in the face of God, discarded the spell for prayer.

The Lord gives us wings He gives us a stomach we can fly or vomit

Life is at the bottom of things and belief at the top, while the creative impulse, dwelling in the center, informs all.

Kristus var en värdig man att göra uppror mot, för han var själv upproret personifierat.

All doors are open to the believer. It is the lesson of the Samaritan woman at the well.

He tried everything from science to voodoo, everything buy prayer. That, at least, I could give him in abundance. I prayed ceaselessly for him, a desperate human prayer. Not for his life, no one could take that cup from him, but for the strength to endure the unendurable.

All doors are open to the believer. It is the lesson of the Samaritan woman at the well. In my sleepy state it occurred to me that if the well was a portal out, there must also be a portal in. There

I have smoothed the hem of the robe of Parsifal. Watched Giotto's sheep wander from a fresco. Prayed before holy icons unveiled, surviving time. Held shavings swept from the hut of Geppetto. Unzipped a body bag and beheld the face of my brother. Witnessed the acolyte scatter petals over a dying poet. I saw the smoke of incense form the shape of my days. I saw my love return to God. I saw things as they are.

All doors are open to the believer.

But we keep on going, he continued, fostering all kinds of crazy hopes. To redeem the lost, some sliver of personal revelation. It's an addiction, like playing the slots, or a game of golf.

I commenced with my chores, whistling an oft-forgotten tune, certain that we, as the seasons, prevail and that ten thousand years is yet a blink in the eye of a ringed planet or that of an archangel armed with a sword of glass.

Beneath the feet of Christ was a skull embellished with the words memento mori. "It means 'Remember we are mortal,' " said Gregory, "but poetry is not." I just nodded. (p. 155)